What Happens in Vegas

This is a very mild female exhibition fantasy. There is no real sex or bondage or any of that, just a young woman flashing her naked twat for all the world to see... or did she?

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The following warning is probably not needed for this particular story, but I am including it because it does apply to most of my stories.

WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.

If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.

Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2015 by The Technician.

Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.

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* * * * * * * * * * * *

It was just before eight o'clock on Saturday evening and Sandra Kowalski was all but dragging her husband, David, by his elbow into the central ballroom of the Blue Sky Casino. "We are going to be late," she said, "and I have to give the welcoming speech."

She stopped, turned to face him, put her hands on her hips, and asked in a very irritated tone of voice, "Why are you dawdling?"

Grabbing his hands she added, "You normally almost run along in front of me. I'm having to pull you along. It's like you don't want to be here."

"That's because I

don't

want to be here," he answered sharply. "I told you I

hate

high school reunions."

"But this isn't your typical high school reunion," she replied. "How many ten-year class reunions are held at a Las Vegas casino?" Then she smiled and added, "...and at no cost to anyone in the class. All we have to pay for this entire weekend is any booze that we drink."

"You have never fully explained how the class president managed to arrange that," he grumbled. Then he stopped once again and asked, "How

did

you pull that off?"

"My excellent negotiating skills," she replied as she once again pulled him along. "And having a class vice-president who has a high level job here at the casino."

"I thought Gerry was an aerospace engineer," David said. "Last I heard he was designing flight simulators for an aircraft company. What in the heck does he do here at a casino?"

"You'll have to ask him tonight," Sandra answered brightly. "All of the class officers are sitting together." She then pointed over to one of the tables at the front of the room and said, "You go sit down. I need to welcome everyone and explain the events of the evening."

David walked over to the table Sandra had indicated as she walked up to the podium at the front of the room. Her welcoming speech was the standard "so glad you could be here" sort of stuff you'd expect at any class reunion. She then went on to explain that everyone had one hundred dollars worth of complementary chips at their tables for use later in the casino. Tomorrow morning and afternoon were scheduled as free time and tomorrow night there would be a smaller gathering in the penthouse lounge for those who were not going home until Monday. That turned out to be almost all of the class.

"Those of us who are staying Sunday night," she said as she ended her remarks, "are also going to get a guided tour of the Strip. So everyone meet out front at exactly 6:00 o'clock and we will walk the sidewalks together with our guide before going up to The Blue Sky Penthouse Lounge for a meal and more time together."

The regular entertainment for the room then began. The show was entitled "Modern Burlesque" and featured everything from several strippers re-enacting famous routines to highly-skilled. modern pole dancers, two of whom danced completely naked. Huge screens on the walls displayed closeups of both dancers' glistening pussy lips as they spun and gyrated around their poles.

"I can't even imagine why someone would show off their body like that!" David huffed. His disapproval was obvious in his voice. "Who would ever willingly do something like that?"

Sandra remained silent, but Gerry spoke up. "I'll bet Sandy would," he said. "She was quite a tease and exhibitionist in high school. Look at how her eyes are glistening. I'll bet right now she's imagining herself up there flashing her snatch to the entire room."

Again Sandra didn't respond. What was she going to say? "Gerry, you are absolutely right."

That was the truth, but she couldn't admit that in front of her up-tight husband. Instead she changed the subject. "Gerry," she began, "Dave was wondering what an aerospace engineer is doing working for a casino in Las Vegas."

"You're seeing it," he said as he pointed to the giant displays. "I am Vice-president of Presentation Electronics. Everything is electronic these days– and it's not just automatic cameras that follow a dancer's twat as she swings around a pole. Some of the full routines are animated or have animated backgrounds. We even have some pretty good-sized rooms that are totally gimbaled and powered with hydraulics so that people can feel the motions of whatever is on the screens. We can blast you off into outer space or take you for a tour of any city in the world. If you're willing to pay for it, we can even put your face on any body in the show when it projects on the big screens."

"Wow," said Sandra, "where do you go from there? What's next?"

"The Strippermobile," Gerry answered joyfully. "That's my current big project. It has three different modes. The outer panels of the back can look like an ordinary truck or it can project recordings of a pole dancer or stripper as if they were being seen through windows into the inside of the truck. Or everything can be live with the cameras inside the truck being sent directly to the outside panels.

"The inside of the truck works the same way. It actually is a pole dance stage and the inside wall screens can either show images of pre-recorded scenes or display what is actually outside as if the walls were made of glass."

He laughed and then said, "Sandy, if you really wanted to, you could do a naked pole dance routine in the middle of Times Square... and never leave the garage." He leaned in a little closer and continued in a more quiet tone, "Wouldn't that be an exhibitionist's ultimate fantasy?"

A quick cough from Dave brought Sandra back to the reality of the room. She took a deep breath and tried to compose herself, but her eyes were still practically glazed over. For a moment, in her mind, she had been swinging naked around a pole in the middle of Times Square.

"Or," Gerry continued, "you could flash your stuff all the way up and down the Strip."

"What's the purpose of putting that much work and technology in such a vulgar vehicle?" Dave asked. His disapproval showed on his face and in his voice.

"Publicity with self-censorship to stay just inside the law, among other things," Gerry responded. "The driver can switch from live to video at any time, or switch from a G-rated routine while traveling outside the Strip, to a PG at the edges of the main drag, and then to full X in the center where there shouldn't be any precious snowflakes to be traumatized. When in the neighborhoods totally outside the downtown area the displays can be also be set to look like a regular painted delivery truck."

He looked over at Sandra and said, "I'm even setting it up to be a flight simulator ride of sorts. I haven't sold the hotel and casino on it yet, but I'm sure they would go for it. The Strippermobile Experience would allow a woman to really release her inner slut without having to worry about what cell phone videos might end up on the internet. After all, what happens in Vegas is supposed to stay in Vegas."

Gerry turned to look at Dave and smiled. Then he said cheerfully, "Why don't you and Sandy drop by my labs tomorrow. I could demonstrate the whole setup for you. It's almost complete. All it needs is a beta test shakedown and it will be ready to roll out on the Strip."

"It would have to be early afternoon," Sandra replied. "I have to meet with the penthouse staff for final planning before we tour the Strip."

"And I am playing golf with several other husbands," added Dave, "so she would have to come by herself... if she comes at all."

"Do I detect a note of jealousy?" Gerry said with a chuckle. "Afraid that an old high school flame might get rekindled are we?" He then laughed once again and clinked glasses with Sandra.

In response, David fumed and looked down at the drink he was gripping firmly in his hand. Gerry looked over at Sandra and raised his eyebrows before looking back to Dave and saying, "I assure you that Sandy will be perfectly safe with me. My boyfriend, who couldn't be with us tonight, works with me in the lab and will be helping run the final tests tomorrow. If everything goes well, Strippermobile 2.0 really is scheduled for its first public run tomorrow night."

"Dave," Sandra said, "In case you didn't catch on, Gerry was never my boyfriend. In high school it was more like he was just one of the girls. He wasn't officially out of the closet, but everyone knew. So, he isn't an old flame that you have to worry about. He's more of an really safe old girlfriend. We have always been and will always be just very good friends."

"OK," grumped Dave. "Just don't do anything stupid."

"And by stupid," she explained with a forced smile to the rest of the table, "he means anything that might be fun."

Turning to look directly at her husband seated next to her she huffed, "Lighten up! This is Vegas. Can't a girl have a little fun once in a while without you worrying about what the neighbors might think?"

"I tell you what," Gerry said. "I will meet with you and the event coordinator from The Penthouse at 2:30. Then we can go over to my labs to look at the Strippermobile. You will be back here in plenty of time to do your last minute checks and I will be here in plenty of time to lead the tour of the Strip."

Sandra was nearly bouncing in her seat like a little girl being offered her favorite ice cream as she said, "That works for me."

Dave looked more like a kid in a dentist's waiting room as he muttered, "I'll be playing golf." Then he added ominously, "Remember, don't do anything that might get back home. We do have an image to maintain. And not everything that happens in Vegas stays in Vegas."

Gerry was about to say something in reply, but at that moment a swarm of waiters and waitresses flooded into the room bringing their meals. They were fast and efficient and within moments everyone was served.

Following dinner, there were the customary speeches and reminiscences, and of course, the stupid prizes for longest married, most kids, who came from farthest away, and all of that. A little before midnight, the party broke up with most of the guests wandering into the casino itself to see if they could parlay their free chips into a windfall fortune. By one am, most had exhausted their supply of chips and were headed up to their rooms.

***

The afternoon meeting with the event coordinator from The Penthouse restaurant was your typical, boring, go-down-the-checklist type of meeting that is a part of setting up gatherings at any hotel or resort. At least it lasted only an hour, so by 3:45, Gerry and Sandra were walking out the front door of the casino.

After his car was brought around, he headed up Las Vegas Boulevard for a couple of blocks and then turned off the Strip and zig-zagged over to West Reno street and a rather nondescript building that looked like it had once been an auto repair shop– it had been.

From the outside, the place looked almost abandoned, but once you stepped in through the security doors, it was bright, clean, and modern. The surprise showed on Sandra's face as Gerry clicked a remote and lights automatically came on in what was apparently his work area.

"The run-down exterior keeps the tourists away," he explained. After a short laugh, he pointed to the myriad of cameras hanging from the ceiling and added, "And the electronic security keeps the competition honest."

"Good afternoon, Ralph," he said to the nearest camera.

"Good afternoon, Mister Bruger," echoed from the speakers on the wall. "Please verify," the voice continued.

"Authorization code Alpha-Seven-Zero-Zero-Six," he replied. Then leaning close to Sandra he explained, "That means you are a visitor with full rights and I can show you what I am working on."

"What if you got the code wrong?" she asked.

"The fact that it started with 'alpha' means you are a full-access visitor," he answered with a smile. "And as long as I call him 'Ralph,' and the code ends in six everything is fine."

Looking a little more serious he continued, "But if I had called him 'Dave'... or ended the code with a nine... or started it with 'x-ray'... or not given a code at all, one of us might be lying on the ground with a bullet in the leg right now."

Gerry chuckled at her wide eyes and finished with "This is Vegas. They take their security very seriously here."

He then clicked his remote once again and a large garage-style door rolled upward to reveal what appeared to be a small moving truck. "And this is why," he said.

Stepping to one side, he added with a flourish of his arms, "I present to you, the Strippermobile Flight Simulator."

Another click of his remote and the walls of the truck, which displayed the logo of a furniture company, seemed to suddenly turn transparent, revealing a room with a carpeted floor and ceiling, and a shiny brass pole mounted in the very center of the room. Two leather swivel chairs were mounted on the floor adjacent to the wall which separated the area from the cab of the truck. That wall was also covered in the deep blue carpet.

"How would you like to be the very first person to try the Strippermobile Flight Simulator Experience?" he asked.

"How realistic is it?" she replied.

"You will think we are driving down the Strip," he answered. "You can even wave at the people on the sidewalk if you want and they will wave back."

Sandra remained silent for several moments. Finally she said quietly, "Promise you won't tell David?"

"I assure you he won't hear it from me," Gerry answered.

He then pressed another button on his remote and one side of the truck body raised up like an old-fashioned garage door. "That's actually a screen on both sides," he explained. "Someday you will have a choice of almost anywhere, but for now I have it programmed so that from inside it will look like we are driving down the Strip."

"I wish I could do this for real," Sandra answered breathlessly. "I would love to flash my body to everyone on the Strip, including our whole class. But David is right. If it ever got back home, it could cause problems for him and his business."

"Pretend it is real," Gerry said with a big smile. "And who knows, you might get your wish. Remember, this is Vegas where, sometimes, dreams do come true."

"I thought that was Disneyland," Sandra said with a slight laugh.

"Same song, different verse," Gerry replied.

He then helped Sandra climb up a small set of steps to a platform so that she could enter the back of the truck. As the panel came back down, the three outer walls of the truck appeared to become transparent.

Gerry's voice came from the speakers, "It would probably be best if you sat down at the beginning until you get used to the movements of the truck. It will feel exactly like we are going out on the road, including the jerks and jostles."

The sound of a truck starting up startled Sandra, and then the room began to vibrate slightly. She could hear a garage door opening and the truck felt like it began to move. Gerry had been right. It was exactly as if they were pulling out onto the street.

She sat and watched some older buildings with a few houses interspersed go by. Then Gerry's voice said, "If this were real, the outside of the truck would still be the furniture van. You would be able to see out, but no one could see in."

After a short pause, he added, "The show area starts in about two blocks, so get ready."

Sandra stood and grasped the pole. After glancing around for a moment, she kicked off her heels so that they landed under one of the chairs. As she stood holding lightly to the pole, the driver reached the high end of the Strip and started down the boulevard. There were groups of people here and there on the sidewalks but it wasn't particularly crowded.

Gerry's voice came over the speakers. It sounded slightly weird, almost like it was echoing... or being amplified to external speakers. "The Blue Sky Casino," he bellowed out, "presents our amateur stripper of the night... Sandra."

He paused and said in a more subdued voice, "Remember, you too could ride the Strippermobile either for real or as a flight simulation at the Blue Sky Casino. And for your entertainment, our professional dancers will be appearing regularly here in the Strippermobile and also each evening at the Blue Sky Penthouse Lounge."

Bump and grind music with a heavy beat began blaring from the speakers. Sandra grabbed the pole and pulled herself up a few feet off the ground. She knew what she was doing because she had been taking pole dancing classes for several years. She told Dave it was "to keep in shape," but her real reason was an almost obsessive fantasy of someday being able to exhibit her body to an audience.

"I should have worn something easier to take off," she aloud said to herself.

Gerry answered, "Improvise. It will make it look more real."

"Oh!" she said. "You can hear me!"

"And see you," he replied. "You've kept your body in very good shape. I still have those pictures of you streaking the homecoming game senior year. Nobody every figured out that was you, but I was the one waiting with the fake trash barrel so you could hide as soon as you got behind the bleachers. The cops chasing you never did figure out where you went."

Sandra turned slightly red as the memories came back to her.

"And luckily we scored a touchdown just as you took yourself over the top while you were squished down inside there so nobody but me heard you."

Sandra now turned totally red and stammered, "I didn't know you heard me."

Gerry laughed and added, "Sandra,

EVERYONE

would have heard you if they weren't cheering so loud."

"Looks like the memories have gotten you in the mood," he said. "Your headlights are definitely at high beam and if I'm not wrong, your panties are soaking wet."

In response, Sandra did a spin split and turned upside down. Her mini skirt fell down toward her waist totally exposing her bright blue panties which were, indeed, a much darker blue in the crotch.

"You might try a knee swing while you get rid of that skirt," Gerry suggested.

Sandra dropped her left foot to the floor and hooked her right knee around the pole. Then pushing herself with her left foot she began spinning backward around the pole while at the same time unzipping the short skirt. When she grabbed the pole and pulled herself upward once again, the skirt dropped to the floor as she began spinning faster around the pole.